


Loki Falling

by keznik



Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avenger Loki, Gen, Loki-centric
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-06-07
Packaged: 2018-01-07 01:42:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1114022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keznik/pseuds/keznik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki manages to do something he's never done before...how is he going to cope with an exact copy of himself out there? Will it be fun and games or a distinct close up look at himself, warts and all?<br/>I own nothing, Marvel owns everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1- The Fall of a King

**Author's Note:**

> First fic and unsure on direction just at mo – learning experience.  
> Changed rating from mature down to normal as I wish to play around with the story. I don't want to drop my first attempt as I like the premise. It may go back to mature later but I wish to have flexibility.  
> Thank you for bearing with me.

Chapter One – The Fall of a King

In The Meadow

Loki violently awoke coughing, struggling to get his breath. Blood splattering against his hand as he held it against his mouth. His chest felt heavy and he took stock of his battered body and compiled an inventory of each pain. He called upon his magic to knit together his broken pelvis, inflate his left lung and by far the direst injury, repair his ruptured aorta.

Once he felt he was able, he pulled himself up to a seated position and looked around him. He knew he had fallen far and had landed in a golden meadow. The grasses, bleached by the sun but he could make out odd snippets of colour. He concentrated on focusing his tired eyes and saw small yellow flowers in between the tall grasses. The floral scents washed over him as he looked up to the blue sky.

"Why did I fall, and where from?" he asked himself.

His voice surprised him with the gravelly texture. There was still blood in his mouth, he tried to swallow but his throat was dry and sore.

His head ached but he knew he had to get up and find shelter. The sun was beating down fiercely on him and encased in his metal and leather armour he was starting to overheat. He naturally preferred cooler climates but his magic had been waned by the healing he had performed after he had landed so he couldn’t chill his core temperature to a more comfortable level.

He gathered his feet under his pelvis and used his hands to push himself upwards. The field he had landed in was large but he could make out an old barn to the North. He headed towards it, each muscle complaining as he pushed forward with every stride.

As he walked he tried to recall what had caused his fall. He remembered that he had fallen through a large metal hole far above him in the sky but he just couldn't pull the memory before that.

Suddenly, a gun-shot cracked around the meadow and a murder of crows took to the sky with loud caws and Loki immediately collapsed to his knees with his head protected by his hands. His eyes shut tightly as his memory rushed back to him.

A face flickered in front of his closed eyes. Dark hair and wide knowing eyes belonging to a dark suited man. He was holding a recently discharged weapon, slumped down against a metal wall, blood streaked above him. Gravely hurt he spoke aloud.

‘So that’s what it does”

He must have been addressing the other man that was dusting himself off through the torn hole in the grey prison room to Loki's left. 

The main room itself was large with a large circular hole in the centre exposing the outside. He knew he was in Fury's ridiculous vessel. The very idea of putting a ship in the air with a monster pretending to be a man was absurd. 

His momentary lack of concentration caused him to slide across the floor where he lay and he realised that he was dangerously close to the edge. The air was pulling at his coat, trying to tear him away from the air-ship.

He willed himself to look at the man the dead Agent had been looking at. He was of a similar stature to himself and the colours of his clothes was also similar. Loki screwed up his eyes tightly and desperately concentrated to make the fuzzy image clearer. The last thing he saw as the wind succeeded in pulling him from the air-ship caused his eyes to open wide and he gasped. The memory had hit him like a Bilgesnipe bull running at full pace. A face and a single word etched to his consciousness.  
________________________________________  
In The Heli-Carrier

Loki held his abdomen where Agent Coulson had discharged his bizarre weapon. The discomfort was dispersing but it had left an unusual feeling behind where the weapon had thrown his across the prison room and through a wall. He had already tested his foolish brother’s immortality by releasing the glass cell made for the green monster, from the air-ship and the rush of the air created by the gaping hole was roaring past the wounded wall. He gathered himself and rose up to his feet, his hand still grasped tightly around the handle of the sceptre. He stepped back through the gap his body had made and looked towards the agent that had fired that bizarre weapon.

Agent Coulson was just about alive after petulantly telling him that he wasn't going to succeed as he lacked conviction. He found himself bored by the Agent quickly and caught a flash of black and green out of the corner of his eye. He turned his attention to the man desperately close to the edge of the drop area assuming it was another SHIELD agent and getting ready with a sneer and an insult, when he noticed his features.

The face was exactly the same as his own. He quickly checked that he didn't have any copies projecting and was shocked into hesitating for a moment as he realised that the Loki he was looking at was no replica but a sentient version of himself that had somehow been created. The other Loki's confused expression matched his own and he reached forward to try and grab his hand. He was too late.

"No!" he shouted to the other Loki as he fell rapidly becoming a dot in the distance.

"What in the Nine Realms!" he exclaimed and got up slowly from the edge. He smoothed down his coat, and walked off to meet Barton as arranged, thoughts running in to one another as he tried to work out how there could be another...Loki?


	2. The Desperation of a King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in a second chapter.  
> 

Loki sluggishly rose from his crouched position. He felt unsteady, the understanding of his unique situation overwhelming him.

He looked back up to the barn that he had been striding towards before his memory was restored. 

‘I must get to shelter’ he quietly muttered to himself. Aware that he needed to formulate a plan, needed to comprehend what it meant to be a twin of one’s self. His legs moved unsteadily towards the decrepit building.

The sky darkened, the air growing cooler and starting to gust. A thunderstorm was building and it appeared as if the lightening was going to hit nearby. It seemed bizarre to Loki that a storm would develop so fast.

‘Thor?’ He heard the name softly escape his dry, thin lips.

Loki’s confusion was quickly replaced by a compulsion to reach his brother.

‘Not my brother’ he chastised himself sternly. He sighed as he realised that petty squabbles didn’t matter currently. ‘But, he might be able to help me, although, he might not want to’. It had been less than an hour since he had tried to kill the Asgardian. However, the idiot fool was always ready to forgive and trust him, and trust Loki needed right now.

Loki held his pale hand palm up, looked down and muttered a few words. A golden arrow shimmered in his palm pointing him towards the source of his desire. He closed his fist firmly and with a determination borne from his adrenaline he took off across the meadow ignoring the screaming coming from the muscles in his body.

Stumbling over the uneven terrain he wished that he had enough magic to transport himself to Thor directly. The lightening was striking all around the next field, channelling to a single point. That must be where Thor is, Loki thought abruptly. He pushed his long legs to take him faster and spurring himself on towards the hedgerow separating him from Thor. He calculated the angle, speed and push he would need to clear the hedge and as he reached the lift off point the lightening merged together in one place and a loud crack pierced through the air.

He felt the top of the hedgerow brambles catch the bottom of his coat, and hoped to the Allfather that he wouldn’t be caught up and fall badly from his leap. Thankfully, the grasp of the weeds was pitiful and he landed successfully with a blond god in his sights.

‘THOR!’ he shouted as loudly as he could towards the figure. 

It was too late. Thor had started whirling his hammer, determination etched on his face, signifying his launch into the firmament. The noise of the hammer drowned out Loki’s desperate attempts to get his attention. All too soon Thor had been pulled up and was no more than a dot in the sky.

‘Skreyja bacrut’ Loki hissed to himself as he bent double gasping for air. His lungs were on fire. He had never known his body to be so week. A brief sprint should have not left him so far out of breath or his body so drained. He collapsed forward onto the dry ground, the smell of scorched grass filling his nose causing him to retch. His empty stomach heaving painfully as only bile came up. The acids burning his throat leaving him feeling wretched and hideously tired.

The sky darkened again and Loki looked up hoping to see Thor coming back. Hope formed in his chest that Thor had heard his cries and had come back to help his brother.  
‘Not my brother…’ he slurred. He tried to chastise himself again as the light dimmed to dusk. Loki’s eyelids felt heavy and he realised that the sky wasn’t darkening but his vision. Blackness enveloped him and Loki passed out curled up in the meadow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Skreyja bacrut means Incompetent asshole in norse)


End file.
